Rude Awakening
by p3Teal
Summary: A narrative following Dark Link through his very first moments of life and onward. From mischief to mishaps, Dark Link strives to find what makes him unique, and just maybe form some friendships on the way. Rated T for those conscious of light amounts of blood and cursing.


**Author's Note: In case you were curious, this is not an official record from Nintendo recounting Dark Link's origin. It's a work of fiction created by a fan, thusly it can be found on ' .' **

**...It was also written nearly four years ago. I tried to spruce it up a bit, give it some TLC, and this is what happened. I'm not quite sure if I'm going to get back to it after all this time, but tell me what you think if you're so inclined! ^^**

* * *

"Master."

Piercing terra eyes glance up from a book, and the reader folds a page for a bookmark as he stands to take his place at the table.

"My Lord," it choked out, breathless.

The man towering above took it's words without the slightest consideration. For him, these terms were used in even the most casual of conversations. He stood silently, but curiously, half expecting the creature to say more.

Bookshelves were lined in rows along the furthest part of the room. They housed an assortment of spell books; their spines neatly supported each other from end to end. Bottles and jars of varying shapes, colors, and sizes also collected dust in the semi-tidy space. Inside them one would find powders and potions for any purpose imaginable.

There was an immense, stone table in the center of the room. Charcoal and blood markings dressed it with sickeningly beautiful designs. A pool of shadow finished morphing on the surface. The final product was an ivory-skinned young man.

The king observed the creature struggle to grasp consciousness. It's eyes fluttered open, revealing orbs reminiscent to the color of red that accented the table, and it's mouth labored to form the low, breathy praises that barely reached his ears. Seconds later, the creature fell limp on the table. Feeling satisfied, he exited the room.

To the ignorant eye, the weak display would only dishearten. However, the royal king knew better. Only hours ago was the shadow enchanted, so he wasn't expecting any results for a few days at the least. The fact that the spell came into effect pleased him endlessly. It was clear his servant was strong, but this was only the beginning. Faintly, the king was anticipating observing the training sessions with the Sheikah.

The young man slipped through many stages of consciousness over the next two days. His crimson eyes, half-open at the moment, inspected the dismal room he resided in. Shapeless voids similar to thoughts would occupy his mind. Although they held more emotion than structured logic. The room gave him slight feelings of confusion, fright, and comfort. But why should he be afraid? He was unharmed. Also, the flickering lights and broad man, the one he knew granted him life, gave the youth a sense of security. He was protected here. Safe. This was his home.

The images came back again. Ones of being a child playing in the forest. His friends would all crowd around with him and they played games together. Fairies danced and sang above their heads. They glowed green, pink, yellow, purple, and blue...

The blue fairy. She belonged to him. She made him feel annoyed and overjoyed when he thought about her. She had a name, but he couldn't quite grasp it. Similar to his own. The sound of her small voice would almost come to mind. He felt her calling to him, but the sounds were too distant to understand.

These warm images reminded him what his home was really like. A melancholy dungeon did not compare in the slightest. No wonder he was frightened. More so, the memories he had felt awkward. They were familiar to the boy yet foreign at the same time. If he thought about it, even his body gave him that exotic feeling. He had not known any other vessel than his own, much like the memories. However, everything felt incomplete. The youth found that his core felt hollow and cold. Something was missing, dear and precious in every way, but what was it?

Sighing with fatigue, the creature succumbed to darkness.

"Rise, boy. Your master commands you," a deep, baritone voice woke the young shadow.

"Huh...wuh?" The ivory boy opened his eyes. He noticed that the weariness that held him down like shackles was nearly gone. He felt refreshed. He was in the best shape he had ever been in since he first woke in the dungeon.

The first thing he saw was the man's royal attire. A long, red velvet cape, gold, jewels, and armor neatly adorned his muscular physique. Eyes trailing upward, the youth found that this man, a Gerudo, was extremely tall as well.

"Respond," the man spoke loudly, agitation forming at the edge of his voice.

"Yessir-" the young man sat up, but was swiftly caught off guard. His voice was different. It was off, deeper but it still held the vague tone he was accustomed to. Groaning, the shadow gripped his head. Something inside him said that this was always his voice. The high, child-like squeals were never his own. The same was said for his memories. "I don't understand..." He whispered to himself. Pulling his hands from his face, he looked down, and, for the first time, he noticed them.

His hands were larger than before, and he was wearing black, leather gauntlets. However, the most alarming observation was his pallid skin. Gasping, he noticed the difference in his clothing. His body was almost full-grown and lean muscles filled out his new black tunic and dark boots. Unlike the forest-green outfit he remembered, this one came in a variety of shades of gray and black. It also had white tights, a matching, long sleeve undershirt, and chain mail under his tunic. Belts and pouches accessorize his new, ample torso.

"I see you have noticed some changes. I can say that I am not surprised that you remember a few things. You were made with the finest materials afterall..." the king paused, "any questions?" he finished almost lamely.

The shadow, now on his feet, began to speak, but was immediately struck down by his creator. "You will show me respect. Kneel," his frigid glare made the shadow shudder.

"I-I'm sorry. I guess. Please, won't you tell me where I am?" The shadow spoke softly, opting to start with one question instead of bombarding the king with all of his inquiries at once. His cheek stung from from the blow.

_I kinda don't like this guy very much..._

Sighing, the Gerudo eyed the creature from above. "I will tell you all you need to know at this point. Mind you, I will only do this _once_. There will be no questions afterward. Understand?" He did not wait for an answer,"You are my creation. Right now, we are in the dungeons of Hyrule castle. I am Hyrule's lord, King Ganondorf, and you are here to complete every task I give to you," he stated.

The room grew silent as the lord thought of what other questions the hero's clone might have. "Ah, yes," he remembered, "You must be confused about your new body. Yes, you are older. By seven years in fact. And no, I will not tell you your name. If you want to learn more, you must pass the trials I set up for you to prove yourself to me," King Ganondorf informed the teen.

As he turned to leave, the two locked eyes, sparking their first connection: one that settled somewhere between father and son, and master and servant.

A grin nearly rose to the older one's lips, however he traded it with a mask of complete neutrality.

What does one do with one's self in such a situation, wait for his master to return, play into his hands like a spineless weakling, just waiting on his every command? Or does he venture out into the world beyond?

Without the Gerudo king's presence looming over the shadow, he felt much more courageous. What was it that he was so afraid of? Yes, clearly he was standing in the bowels of a dungeon, he had been awake no more than a collective amount of 2 hours, and he already found the origin of his being and his master/mother/father's methods of ruling to be questionable. However, why should he care enough to fear the situation? He has not lived enough to think his life had worth. Does it?

"Self preservation," the teen paused, still getting used to his voice. "I'll bet that's all it is," he concluded with a reassured sigh.

The young man approached the door with caution. Reaching for the handle, he grasped around his tunic for-for what? He thought he had something sharp with him, like a dagger. Perhaps not.

"Damn," he hummed in confusion, "I don't have any weapons." Turning on his heel, the shadow peered at the furniture and trinkets occupying the room for ideas.

"Eenie, meanie, mine," his pale hand pointed at various objects, and landed on a tall golden candle holder. The candle was nearly burned to the end of the wick, and wax-some still running hot-was covering the top half of the stick. The teen attempted to blow out the flame, but it seemed to be just as persistent as he was. The youth licked his thumb and forefinger and pinched the light out with a sizzle.

"Ha, gotcha," he grinned childishly.

For nearly ten minutes, the shadow picked and pried wax pieces off of the candle holder. First of all, there was more than plenty of wax to cushion any type of blunt force he could attempt to muster. Secondly the small task helped to ease his remaining nerves. For the second time, the teen reached for the door; this time with a handy club in hand just in case.

After turning the knob, he let go. The door slowly swung open with a creak.

_Wow, I guess it's not locked. Maybe the king wanted me to follow after him?_

With a blush of embarrassment burning the shadow's pale skin, he hastily walked down the dank corridor, forgetting to close the door and clean up the obscene amounts of wax covering the surfaces in the room.

It only took a few turns down the cold halls before the young man was completely lost. Fortunately for him, a Gerudo girl was leaving the room a few paces ahead. Holding a bowl of bloody water and soggy bandages, she seemed so lost in thought that she did not notice the teen's speedy approach and jumped back when he spoke.

"Err...hello girl," he started simply. "Do you know where the king is and if I should see him?" He had not planned out what he would say if he had met another person. He wondered if she knew who he was and what he was doing in this castle in the first place.

Those questions, however, were not on the priority list. Like, on the list after the priority list. The small talk list maybe?

The girl shifted her gaze from the floor, to the candlestick, and back to his eyes repeatedly before answering.

"Hello boy," she thought for a couple of moments longer. "No I don't, and I'm not sure-seeing as I'm down here most of the time. Do you have permission to walk freely in these halls?" Once more, she eyed the teen's makeshift club.

_Shit. Does that mean I _was_ supposed to stay in that room? But he didn't say anything otherwise, so..._

"I have permission; I'm just lost is all. I have amnesia, and...he said I work for him," he grinned, hoping she would be content with his answer.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know. Amnesia? That seems to be popping up a lot around here lately; maybe it's his way of-" she interrupted herself, "nevermind, I'm Aveil. You are?"

"Paranoid, cold, and confused, but you can call me 'Drop Dead Sexy.'"

The girl laughed and both of them relaxed a bit. "Right. Amnesia. My bad,"she said while regaining her composure. "What's that you have? Is-is that a candlestick?"

"It's...well...just in case," he laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his head. "What's with your bowl? What do you do down here?"

"I work down here; this is part of the job." The shadow was amazed at how well she was able to answer his questions, yet give away virtually no information at the same time.

Silence fell over the two for a moment before Aveil cleared her throat. "I guess I should take you to the throne room; I'll bet King Ganon will be there."

"Is he usually there this time of...day?"

_What _time _is it?_

_ I'd ask, but that question seems like it would be on the small talk list..._

"I'm actually not sure," she smiled, embarrassed.

"But you'll bet on it?" The teen gave a sly grin in return.

"For Din's sake, I'm trying to help you out, and you're interrogating me!" Aveil huffed.

"Sorry, sorry. Lead the way, I don't have any money to bet anyway."

Aveil led the young man through a maze of corridors and up an impossible amount of stairs. There was so much new scenery, the teen could hardly pay attention, so he kept his attention on the girl in front of him. Although sometimes his eyes drifted to her backside and her delicate curves. Okay, more than sometimes. Like, most of the time.

Snapping to attention, the youth saw that they were standing in front of an immense door. It was at least twice his size; probably closer to three times his height. The ornate design and the handiwork of the craftsmanship blatantly told him that whatever was beyond the door was worth the meticulous work put into something so simple. The shadow swallowed hard. Suddenly he didn't feel quite so cocky.

"I'm sorry, but this is as far as I can and will take you," Aveil took several steps back and gave an apologetic look.

With a nod, the teen strained to make a conscious effort to reach for the handle.


End file.
